[The clock now shows quarter past three. The
storm is at its height. Suddenly a scream echoes through the house.
Nyssa / Helen jumps out of bed, grabs a shawl, and rushes to the
door of Tegan / Julia's room. It's locked, so she listens at it.]

Tegan's voice
[sounding really terrified] :
Keep away from me!

[She is answered by a jovial voice with a Yorkshire
accent.]

Jovial voice:
How do, love? Fancy a bit of a cuddle?

Tegan's voice:
Izzy, get me out of here right now! I don't care what your precious story
says! I'm not letting that thing near me!

[Sounds are heard as of vases being thrown and furniture
being smashed.]

Jovial voice:
You're quite the little spitfire. What d'you say to just a couple of
minutes' fun together?

Tegan's voice:
I'd sooner die!

Jovial voice:
Fair enough. Here goes, then.

[More crashing. The door is unlocked, and
Tegan / Julia staggers out, white as a sheet.]

Tegan:
Nyssa! Run for it! It's —

Izzy / Narrator:
Tegan, your method acting is very impressive, but could you please stick
to the script?

Tegan:
You think that was acting?! Still, it's too late
to do anything about it now.
[With a visible effort, she readopts the
character of Julia.] It was the band! The speckled
band!

Nyssa / Helen
(vo) :
I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister had described.

[Sure enough, she does; she looks around, puzzled.
Gastridge / Roylott rushes up in a dressing gown, and bends over
Tegan / Julia.]

Nyssa / Helen
(vo) :
My stepfather sent for medical aid from the village, but she died without
recovering consciousness.

[Daytime. Harry Sullivan is now kneeling beside
Tegan / Julia.]

Harry:
Sorry, nothing to be done. She's snuffed it.

[The inquest. The Brigadier presides.]

Brigadier:
Gentlemen of the jury, much as I'd like to bring it in wilful murder
against the wicked stepfather, the evidence seems to be perfectly clear.
The door was locked on the inside, the windows had the shutters barred,
and it would be quite impossible for anyone to fit down the chimney.
Police Sergeant Benton made a most diligent check of the walls and floor
for secret passages and found nothing. You have also heard Doctor Sullivan's
evidence that he checked for poison and found none.

"But Harry couldn't find a goldfish in its own bowl!" interrupted Baby
Sarah. Baby Harry retaliated by pulling her hair, and it took Izzy a few
moments to restore order.

Brigadier:
Now consider your verdict.

Nyssa / Helen
(vo) :
Unsurprisingly, they were unable to find any satisfactory cause of death.

[The flashback ends.]

Sally / Holmes:
Was your sister dressed?

Nyssa / Helen:
No; she was in her nightgown. She'd lit the lamp, though.

Sally / Holmes:
Ah, so she heard something and tried to see what it was. And were there
gypsies around at the time?

Nyssa / Helen:
Yes. There usually are.

Larry / Watson:
That must be what she meant by a speckled band, then. Don't gypsies
sometimes wear speckled headscarves?

Sally / Holmes:
Pray go on with your narrative.

Nyssa / Helen:
Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until lately
lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have
known for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand in marriage.

[Flashback again; a Victorian drawing room.
Adric / Percy, dressed in period costume, is being pushed into the room
by Wesley and Lucas, who are wearing their normal uniforms.]

Wesley:
Come on, Adric, this is the perfect opportunity!

Lucas:
You wouldn't even be breaking character.

Wesley:
All you have to do is ask her...

Izzy / Narrator:
Ahem.

[Wesley and Lucas look up and scarper. Nyssa / Helen
enters.]

Nyssa / Helen:
It would have to be you, wouldn't it? I mean, to what do I owe the pleasure
of this visit?

[Adric / Percy goes down on one knee.]

Adric / Percy:
Um, I, er, wonder if you...

Nyssa / Helen[sotto
voce] :
Get on with it.

Adric / Percy:
Ah, to put it another way, what would you say if I asked...

[Nyssa snatches up a heavy brass flowerpot and brings it
down on his head. He collapses.]

Izzy / Narrator:
Nyssa!

Nyssa:
Sorry, force of habit.

Izzy / Narrator:
Can we have an understudy again, please?

[Turlough enters. He leers at Nyssa / Helen.]

Turlough / Percy:
Hey, doll. How about some hot Trion love? You know you want it.

Nyssa / Helen:
Lay one finger on me that isn't explicitly stated in the story and I'll
scoop out your lungs with my bare hands.

[Turlough turns pale, and beats a hasty retreat. The
flashback ends.]

Sally / Holmes:
So when are you getting married?

Nyssa / Helen:
Some time next month. A couple of days ago, I had to move out of my
room because of building work.